What I Want
by ScarletRaven1001
Summary: Bulma knew that what they had may not be for keeps, but she was happy with Vegeta for now. When her feelings for him start to grow though, so do her uncertainties, as she realizes that she wanted what they had now to be permanent, and she wasn't quite sure if Vegeta was on board. [A three-year gap fic. One shot. A sequel to Worth, but can stand alone. For the Spring 2018 Smutfest]


**A/N 1:**

 _This is the censored version. For the uncensored story, please find me on Ao3, under the same pen name._

8-8-8-8-8

 **What I Want**

8-8-8-8-8

She wasn't going to make it.

The abnormally strong winds had already swept up the entire main house. She had run to the bunker in a desperate bid to escape, but the door to the underground hideout was already rattling on its hinges, and she already knew that it was only a matter of time before even the strong seal of the reinforced metal door gave way and -

The screeching sound of metal pulled her from her reverie, and she realized that the metal door was already bending under the pressure, peeling away from the bottom up, looking as light as paper being crumpled in her hands.

She screamed as the winds began entering the bunker, bringing its deafening force of destruction, and she moved to the farthest wall, trying to find something to hold on to in the small room.

In a flash, the entire room was gone, swept up in the roaring winds, and she looked around to find that she had somehow found herself in the very center of it all, the gales crushing and destroying everything around her while she remained hunched in on herself, hoping that the winds jump off and leave her be.

A pair of white, gold tipped boots entered her vision, and her eyes widened as her gaze swept up and found the powerful legs encased in blue, skin tight pants, and higher up to the muscular torso in white and gold armor, and finally, the intense face topped by wild, flame-like dark hair that stood steady amidst the chaotic winds surrounding them.

"Vegeta!" she shouted in despair, reaching a hand out to him, "help me!"

Her heart stopped when he merely smirked, as she suddenly felt herself being lifted up by the strong gales.

"You are on your own, woman," he hissed, tilting his head back to watch as her form was swept up higher, higher, the tornado swirling around her as she tried in vain to reach for him.

"Please!" she screamed, beseechingly looking into his eyes, consumed by utter terror. She was going to die!

"Tch," he spat, face turned up to watch her as she was helplessly swept away.

"Vegeta!" she called out one last time as the harsh winds dragged her up completely, thrashing her about in its merciless clutches.

The sudden stillness surprised her, and she opened fearful eyes to find herself staring up at a pale ceiling. She looked around and found that she was lying in bed in her own bedroom, safe within the confines of Capsule Corp's thick walls.

It was just a dream. A nightmare.

There were no winds, no impending doom. There was nothing there.

Just her sweaty, naked form, tangled up in messy sheets.

She looked to her right, and was unsurprised to find that there was nobody beside her.

Of course… Vegeta had left.

He never stayed with her. Never slept beside her, after having _slept_ with her.

She sat up slowly, a hand going to her now pounding head, and sighed.

Things were getting out of hand. And she had a sinking feeling that it was all about to get worse.

She had been in trouble since he first looked into her eyes and she found the concern that was thickly veiled behind the darkness of his gaze. Since the first time he held her, the first time he kissed her. She just didn't know it at the time.

She was content with what they had for now: the arguments and bickering between them, and the few rousing conversations when he let her in on his knowledge of space mechanics; The teasing and ribbing whenever he found her attempting to make something edible in the kitchen; The small smiles that touched his lips when she made improvements to his training regimen…

The unbelievably hot nights of passion…

She was having fun. And more than that… she was _happy._

However, the unbelievable feelings he stirred up in her when he had her in his arms, when he growled her name in the throes of passion, when he was inside her, fucking her with so much fervor…

She understood why the sex, though mind-blowing from the very start, had been getting even more incredible.

She knew why her heart filled with so much joy when he gently held her face in his palms as he moved within her, when he whispered soft words against her lips as he slowly pleasured her body.

Why she so desperately wanted him to stay with her, after their heated nights together were over.

Bulma was falling in love with him.

And she felt sure, without a shadow of a doubt, that Vegeta would never allow himself to feel the same.

8-8-8-8-8

Bulma was elbow-deep in greasy machines and wiring when the door to her lab hissed open, and she felt that peculiar crackle in the air that accompanied him whenever he entered a room.

She looked up, and sure enough, Vegeta was there, slowly walking over to her, a frown marring his face as usual.

"Hey Vegeta. What's up?" she asked, reaching for a rag to wipe her hands on in case he needed her help for something.

"I seem to have hit an impasse with my training," he muttered.

"Eh?" she wiped her hands as she faced him. "What do you mean?"

"I am not progressing," he answered, turning his head away, his eyes finding something to fixate on as he avoided looking at her. "I do not know what the problem is, but I know that I have gotten stronger, much stronger than Kakarot had been when he defeated Freeza."

He looked at her then, and she could see the frustration and leashed fury hiding behind his dark eyes. "Yet, I still have not ascended. And I cannot comprehend _why."_

She looked at him in concern, her eyes perusing his form. He was definitely larger than he used to be, his chest more filled out, his arms thicker, and she knew _intimately_ that all that bulk was pure, hard muscle. He looked powerful enough to crush a tank with one fist.

By this point, he probably could.

So she too, was confused. He really should have attained Super Saiyan by now.

"I'm not sure why, either," she answered, brows furrowed in thought. "All my readouts say that you really have gotten so much more powerful. You should have achieved it ages ago."

"That is precisely why I believe that I am doing something wrong. I am missing something vital here," he groused. "I need to find out."

His frown deepened as he crossed his arms across his chest. "We have barely sixteen months before the doomsday that the future boy spoke about comes upon us. While I am positive that I won't fall to those androids, I need to ascend to ensure that I _destroy_ them."

Bulma distractedly raised her hands to adjust her ponytail, tucking her straight, shoulder-length blue hair back into some semblance of order. "Do you have an idea what the problem could be? Anything you think I could help with?"

"I think," he began, and Bulma's heart skipped a beat as his face slackened into a deadpan expression. "I think I need a swift change. I have been static and this may be hindering me. Perhaps… Perhaps, I need to leave."

Her heart plummeted down to her feet, leaving behind a lump that rose up to choke her.

He was still speaking in low, angry hisses, and she probably should have been paying attention, but the only thing her mind could process was the part where he said that he was _going to leave_.

Sorrow, unlike anything she had ever felt before, filled her from head to toe, and she felt like she was drowning in so many unwelcome emotions all at once.

He was leaving.

Vegeta was _leaving._

Her heart began to hammer in her chest, and she knew that no matter what the outcome of this would be, she had to be strong, to show him the part of her that was tough and independent. She can't ever let him see how much his leaving would affect her.

She was Bulma god-damn Briefs. She had a reputation to keep.

"Woman, are you listening to me?" he demanded, an affronted look on his face, and she realized that what he said may actually need a response.

"Yes, of course," she replied, tossing back another stubborn strand of hair. "Yes, yes, go ahead."

Vegeta stared confusedly at her then. "You are certain?"

"Yeah, sure!" she said in what she hoped was an offhand way, waving a hand dismissively before her. "Just tell me what you need me to do."

He stared at her apprehensively, and she thought that maybe _she_ had missed something here.

"Alright," he said finally. "How long would you need to get the space ship ready?"

She realized immediately that he was leaving _earth_.

He wasn't just going to fuck off to the dessert or something like Yamcha had, or to the mountains like the Sons.

He was going into fucking outer space.

She needed to sit down.

Bulma gathered her thoughts while her hand reached out to pull a chair to herself.

"Give me two weeks," she answered, almost in a daze, a fake smile plastered on her face. "The ship you used last time isn't in working condition, and the ship with the gravity room installed is grounded, so I need to rework some circuitry before any of them would be fit for travel again."

He nodded, then turned to leave, and Bulma was stunned when he hadn't even nagged her to make it fast, or demanded that he needed to leave right away. She was half expecting an argument.

"So, that's alright with you then?" she called out after him.

He turned halfway towards her, nodded again, then went on his way.

Bulma was even more confused, now.

8-8-8-8-8

The week went by in a flurry of activity as Bulma worked tirelessly on the space ship. It reminded her of that time after she and Yamcha had broken up for good, and she had buried herself into her machines like there was no tomorrow.

Remembering those times also reminded her of who exactly had been there for her back then.

Vegeta had helped her work through her sadness in the most unexpected ways. Dragging her off to eat, making sure that she got up every now and then to sleep… he had been so unexpectedly good to her and she knew that she would not have been able to cope with those difficult times had he not been there to help her through it all. He had built her up, made her feel strong and important once again.

And now he was leaving.

Who would help her _this_ time?

She had never been a particularly clingy woman. In fact, nearly all of the breakups with Yamcha before, she was the one who had initiated. She never needed anyone. She was fine on her own, always had been, and the devastation of her previous breakup, in hindsight, was more from the feeling of being cheated on and less on the sadness of actually losing him.

So, her feelings now confused her.

She didn't really need Vegeta. She had more than enough beauty and brains to find herself a boyfriend, if she wanted. It wasn't like he was even her boyfriend, per se. They weren't even really dating.

But she _wanted_ him to stay. Wanted it so bad, she could taste it.

Probably wanted it as bad as he wanted to ascend.

And knowing how much her wanting him to stay devastated her, she knew that she couldn't, in good conscience, possibly keep him from leaving to find that missing piece of the puzzle that he needed to break out of his current slump and turn Super Saiyan.

Yet, as miserable as she was about his approaching departure, possibly the worst thing in all this was how he had stayed away from her in the past week.

After the first time they slept together, both had sworn up and down that it was only going to be a one-time thing – to scratch an itch, to get it out of their systems. She had gone to his room, and even told him then that he could opt to never come near her again after they were done, if he chose to.

He had come to her two nights later, and they fell into bed once again. Then she had gone to him again the following night, and he had gone to her to indulge in each other's bodies nearly every night after that.

So, this strange avoidance harkened back to those times when he had first taken residence with her family. It was like they had gone back to square one: she building him equipment, and he training as he ignored everyone around him.

She missed him already.

It didn't help that she was continuously suffering through nightmares in the few hours when she had decided to try to get some sleep. The stupid dream with the stupid tornado plagued her everytime she dared close her eyes, and every single dream ended with her being swept up to her death and Vegeta just impassively watching her fly into her doom.

She avoided sleeping, and thus spent more time in her lab.

With her days filled with nothing but the space ship, she realized with a sinking feeling that she was going to finish her upgrades earlier than expected.

The damn machine was going to be ready for him in two more days, max.

She had half a mind to keep that fact to herself until the specified two weeks was over. She could certainly be selfish enough; Even though they had not been together in the past few days, she felt more reassured by the fact that she knew he was just there, can feel his energy nearby.

But she also wanted him to succeed. And the sooner he started, the sooner he could ascend. Because she was sure that he could do it. He was meant for it. She could _feel_ it.

Bulma sighed, before heading to the freezing device that she had made specifically to preserve the massive amounts of food that she knew he was going to need to survive in space. She had almost finished those as well, as each finished meal was encapsulized after the preservation process. She made enough food for exactly fifteen months, the amount of time left before the androids were due to appear. It was her subtle way of telling him that she wanted him to come back to earth before then.

God dammit. She just needed to install the water heater. She was done here.

She walked over to the communication machine that linked directly into the training room that Vegeta was using. She had not used that module at all in the past week, avoiding him as much as he was apparently avoiding her.

She pressed the button to patch her through, and in a few seconds, his image came onto her screen, her heart banging against her chest as she looked straight into his face again after a whole week without seeing him up close.

"Vegeta, I need to talk to you," she said, and his features pinched in agitation.

"I am coming," was all he said, before the line went dead.

It took all of a minute before he was before her, shirtless, sweaty and short of breath from his heavy workout.

"What is it, woman?" he asked, arms crossed.

"I have some good news," she began, smiling lightly. "I have finished the needed maintenance and upgrades on the ship. I am just working on stocking it up with food and other essentials, and…"

She found herself choking slightly as she said her next words.

"And… you can leave in two days," she finished, forcing herself to smile wider at him, to appear giddier, more enthusiastic.

She expected him to react differently than how he actually did.

His brows furrowed deeper, his arms releasing from their place across his chest as his fists clenched at his sides.

"Is that all?" he growled.

"What?" she asked, confused. "Well, yeah. I thought you'd be glad to know."

"That is it then?"

"What else is there, Vegeta?"

His eyes narrowed, and she shuddered at the look he was giving her.

He didn't look angry at her… but there was something else, something she could not identify.

"What else, indeed, _Bulma_?" he snarled, the venom in his voice surprising her. "Surely there really is nothing else."

She was confused by his reaction. "Vegeta, are you _angry_? I thought you'd be happy that you could go to space earlier than expected!"

"I am delighted, woman!" he snarled, before turning away from her, stomping out of the lab, leaving her slack-jawed.

Bulma shook herself, almost disbelieving that the conversation that had taken place was even real.

"What the fuck was that just now?"

8-8-8-8-8

Hours later, Bulma still could make neither heads nor tails out of the conversation she had with Vegeta. She tried to find him, looking for him in the training room and in all the places he usually frequented, but he was nowhere to be found. He wasn't in any part of the compound, at all.

It wasn't until very late that evening, when she was already getting ready for bed, wearing a tank top with loose pajama pants, that Bulma felt the tell-tale signs of the approaching Saiyan. That same crackle that she could feel in the air whenever he came into a room signaled his return, and she once again pondered how, in the vast sea of people in the universe, he was the only one she could feel giving off a signal like this. He was not the only ki user she knew, but he was the only one she could sense with such overwhelming accuracy. She could feel his presence, like a flare, and she was helpless to do anything but reach for him, find him.

She did just that, following his energy until she felt him in his bedroom. He had the doors closed, but as she was about to knock, her heartbeat sped up, and she hesitated.

'What am I even doing here?' she asked herself, before releasing a heavy breath and turning away from the door, going back to her bedroom.

She locked the door and went to sit on her bed, leaning down and holding her head in her hands. She can't help but wonder why this was so hard… why she was stupid enough to let herself feel too much for a man whose heart was so ridiculously unavailable.

Loud banging interrupted her thoughts, and she straightened when she realized that it was her bedroom door. Someone was knocking, no, battering her door, and she felt the pulse of ki that let her know exactly who it was.

She opened the door for him, taken aback when she saw how surprisingly bleary-eyed he looked. His eyes were sunken, his cheeks flushed, his normally immovable hair unruly. His bare chest was heaving, hands fisted on his sides.

"What did you want?" he asked roughly, pushing past her as he entered her room without waiting for an invitation.

"Wha - Vegeta?"

"You were outside my chambers. Why? What did you come for that you were too cowardly to come in and ask me about?"

"Ex-excuse me?!" she sputtered, rage erupting from her chest. She had been ignored for an entire week, and he had the gall to call _her_ a coward?

"You heard me, woman," he hissed in a soft voice full of rage. "Did you finish the repairs? Were you about to ask me to go and fly off to space tonight?"

Something in the way he asked her this, in a voice nearly choked with resentment, made warning bells resound in her head.

Could it be that she really _was_ missing something here?

"I have almost finished the ship, and you can leave in two days. I told you this," she said, some of her anger leaving her as those feelings of confusion clouded her mind again.

"Good," he said, turning to leave.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Without putting much thought into it, she reached forward and grabbed his arm, "Wait!" she cried out, and he froze, turning to her slightly to regard her out of the side of his eye.

"I… I don't understand. Why are you so angry? Was it -" she gulped hard at the piercing look in his eyes. "Was it something I did?"

"No," he answered quickly. Too quickly. "It was not something you did."

"Then why?!" she demanded, pulling at him, her own fury returning. "Why are you doing this? Why have you been avoiding me?" she asked hoarsely, and to her relief, he turned to face her then.

"I… I did as you wanted," she started, and much to her consternation, she felt tears, borne from her confusion and anger, start to gather at the edges of her eyes. "I fixed the ship. I… I did it as fast as I can."

"I know," he sneered, the edges of his lips lifting as if in a snarl, but Bulma saw, in his eyes, not anger… she just can't quite grasp what it was.

His next words froze her on the spot.

"I am delighted that you worked hard to ensure that I leave quickly. Do not worry, woman, I will leave as soon as the ship is ready. I will not be here to bother you for much longer."

Blood rushed up to her face, nearly blinding her with rage.

"You… you fucking asshole!" she screamed, her hands balling into fists that she slammed as hard as she can against his rock-hard chest. "You are a fucking idiot, you asshole!"

He seemed taken aback by her words, as she kept repeatedly slamming her fists onto him, knowing that she wasn't hurting him in the least, but needing to release her frustrations. She just wanted to _hit_ him, let out the frustration, pain and anger that he had caused her.

Vegeta finally snapped out of it, quickly but gently holding her wrists to stop her assault. "What are _you_ angry about? I am leaving, as you wanted! You offered no protest when I brought up the idea. Clearly I have made it easier for you to rid your planet of me. But do not worry, I have made a promise to help you defeat the androids, so I will come back for that. Afterwards, I shall leave for good."

Her tears began to fall now, and she was helpless against the weight of her fury and sorrow. "If you really believe that I want you to go, then you are so, so much stupider than I thought!"

She must have finally gotten through to him, because he had stilled, his hands around her going slack.

"What do you mean?" he asked softly, roughly. "I thought…"

"Did you think I want this? Did you think it was so easy for me to go out of my way to actually be the one to provide you with a way to leave earth? To leave _me?!"_ she continued amidst the tears now streaming down her face, struggling to pull her wrists free from his powerful grip.

"I am going along with this because this is what _you_ want! I am here to help you! I just wanted to help you ascend, because I believe you can, you _will_ ascend," she said, ceasing her struggles, some of the fight leaving her. "You were the one who wanted to go."

"If you had bothered to listen to me," he retorted, "then you would know that I at no point stated that this is what I _want._ I told you, I _need_ to do this."

His shoulders slumped slightly, his eyes downcast as he went on, "I have never been the kind of man to have a choice… to want something, and to choose to do that over what needs to be done. I am a practical man, Bulma. I need to go to space since I believe that the element that I am missing to ascend is out there. I never said that it was what I wanted. It is just what has to be done."

"And," he swallowed, then continued, "when I told you, I was stunned by… by how effortless it was for me to get you to agree."

Bulma stood there in disbelief.

He thought she wanted him gone.

He was _hurt._

 _She_ had hurt _him_.

"Vegeta," she whispered, her soft tone catching his attention as his eyes lifted up to stare into hers. "You really are an idiot. You have to know, that everything I have done, was all for you."

She sniffled, her tears ceasing, but the heavy feeling was still in her chest. "This isn't easy for me. It really isn't."

Vegeta's eyes widened, and suddenly, she wasn't looking into his eyes anymore as he had suddenly tugged her close to him, one of his powerful hands in her hair, another on her upper back, as he had her face pressed into his chest.

Wordlessly, the hand on her back travelled down to wrap around her waist as she felt him bury his face into her hair, and she can hear his breaths, deep rapid inhales and heavy exhales that tickled her face as he moved to pull her even closer.

In a flash, she felt something soft against her back and she realized that Vegeta had flown them to her bed. She was still wrapped in his arms, his legs tangled with hers. He shifted them so they both laid on their sides, and he pressed his forehead to hers as his obsidian eyes sought out her bright blue orbs.

One of his hands crept down to cup her face, his thumb smoothing over her teary cheek. The tender gesture, so unlike him, filled her heart with a peculiar ache that she wanted to always keep, a pain that she would gladly bear if he would just keep touching and looking at her in that way.

They were quiet for several moments, but Vegeta broke the silence.

"Two days. I can leave the day after tomorrow, then?" he asked, still flush against her body.

"Yes. I just need to do some final calibrations," she answered, lost in his eyes, her hand moving to rest on his hard chest. "Also, do you want me to install a coffee maker?" she asked, and she felt more than heard his chuckle.

"Do what you want. Because tonight, I intend to do what _I_ want."

And then his lips were on hers, kissing her, his tongue pushing past her lips demandingly, searchingly, as his hands wandered down to grasp her waist as he pushed her back against the softness of her mattress.

She lifted her arms to wrap around his muscular form, opening her mouth to him, letting him taste her, hoping that her lips and her tongue could let him know, make him remember, that all she wanted was him.

He stopped kissing her for a quick second to tug her tank top off her, his lips crashing back against hers the moment the cloth went over her head. He breasts and stomach now exposed to the cool air, she shuddered, lifting a leg to wrap around one of his while he moved restlessly, pushing his pants down as far as he could before he just used his bare feet to kick them off.

It was as if the difficult past week didn't even happen. There they were again, entwined around each other, moving together in a sensual dance, their hands and lips roving as they struggled to touch the other as deeply as their bodies would allow.

She brought her hands down to push her pants off, only to have her arms grabbed and pulled up above her head. He trapped her hands there with his larger one, and she felt his free hand grab the material covering her a second before she heard a spectacular ripping sound.

His limbs had her caged by his strength, his thick form overwhelming her tiny one as she arched her back to rub her breasts against his chest, needing more contact, needing more of him.

He groaned above her, his lips finally leaving hers, but only to trail down her neck, as he suckled her flesh strongly, teasing her jaw line with his teeth, holding himself over her with one hand braced on the mattress.

She mewled at the sensations he was invoking, his hand working her below while his sinful mouth traveled down to suckle on her breast.

His face was suddenly close to hers again as he panted, his lips searching for hers to kiss her for a brief second before he pulled back.

Bulma calmed her breaths enough to open her eyes to look back at him, her lips parted, lost for words as she finally really _looked_ at him.

He was motionless above her, save for the rise and fall of his chest, his ebony eyes piercing through her as he watched her face in a near trance. She felt an unsettling sort of thrill furl in her chest at that look, that warm, searching look on his handsome face, and she lifted a shaky hand to place it against his cheek, stroking his strong jaw with the back of her hand.

"Vegeta… I am going to miss you," she finally said, her voice soft, a distinct quiver in it making her think that she may burst into tears again at any moment.

Oh god, was she going to miss him.

His hand also lifted to cup her cheek in his, his eyes on hers unwavering, willing her to understand something that he didn't have the strength to say.

She wasn't ready to understand. She didn't know what he meant. Not yet.

She was about to say something else when he moved up, his hand leaving her cheek to hold the leg that she still had wrapped around his legs. He pushed her other leg further sideways, while he wiggled in further to keep both of his legs under her raised, bent knee. With one hand still supporting him over her, he moved to the side so that his torso was nearly completely off of her, and he looked back at her with a smirk.

He pushed up, ever so gently, and he entered her slowly, his head turned sideways to watch her face as he claimed her.

Vegeta pulled his hand away from her leg to hold himself up, both of his arms on her side as his hips started thrusting, his body within hers soothing her deep inside as the gentle motions of his hips caressed her in a way he never had before.

With his body turned near diagonal to hers, she bent sideward at the waist so she can try to move her head to be under his. His entire thick torso was in her view, and she adored how his muscles strained hard as he undulated his hips, his mouth open slightly as he panted in his exertion.

She whispered his name and he looked at her, that gentle light entering his eyes again, and her hand reached up to hold his neck, feeling his sweat upon her palms.

Her body felt so good, her heart felt so full, and Bulma was just so overcome by everything that she seized up, her back stiffening when he rotated his hips just so, his angle hitting her in that spot that made stars explode behind her eyes.

She felt the beginnings of her release start to enter her core, blossoming from somewhere deep inside her and she cried out, her jaw slack, releasing a sharp needy gasp that broke Vegeta's haze and made him push harder, faster against her.

He hissed, one hand moving to hold her face close to his, as he twisted his body back so that their bodies were now aligned, taking her hard as his lips found hers once again.

Her fingers reached around him to grasp and claw at his back, unable to stop her wild actions as he awakened her animalistic side with the indescribable pleasure he was inflicting on her body and mind.

"I can't hold on!" she gasped out, wrapping her arms around him as she ground herself harder against him, holding her body up to his as she buried her face in that beautiful slope between his shoulder and his neck.

"Then don't," he rasped into her ear and she moaned, eyes shut in rapture, pulling back and exposing her neck to him.

"Let go. Let me… let me take you there," he growled softly, wantonly.

His words, and the way he said them, made warmth burst from her chest, and she screamed when her rioting emotions triggered the most heart-stopping orgasm she had ever experienced.

He moved harder within her, harshly growling out her name, before he too released himself within her, his essence flooding her, and he shook hard in her arms as he came, her hands caressing him as she held him through his ecstasy.

She watched with heavy lidded eyes as he slowly came back from the edge, and seemingly without thought, he gathered her into his arms. Without speaking, he stroked her hair as he gently held on to her, the soft touches of his hands on her body soothing her and lulling her to sleep.

8-8-8-8-8

The tornado was upon her again, and this time, she was desperately holding onto the side of the space ship she had built for him.

A scream was building up in her throat, the terror beginning to overwhelm her, when she felt his unmistakable presence come up and stop behind her.

"Vegeta," she called to him again. "Please help me!"

However, unlike in all of her dreams before, he didn't smirk cruelly and leave her to be swept up in the winds. He came up to her, held her wrists and looked straight into her eyes.

"Let go," he said.

She did.

And suddenly, she felt herself rising up, but not because she was being swept away by the strong gales.

This time, it was because she was in his arms as he pulled her away from the chaos.

She curled into him, the warmth of his body telling her that she was out of harm's way _._

That he was there for her.

In his strong embrace, with his arms that were capable of otherworldly destruction, she felt _safe_.

Which was why, this time, when she woke up, she didn't wake up in a blind panic.

And when she turned her head, her heart sang as she found that she was not alone.

Vegeta was at her side, on her bed, sleeping soundly… his face relaxed in slumber, chest rising and falling softly with his steady breaths, one hand still holding on to one of hers.

He may be leaving by the next day, but right now, he was here, lying beside her… With her.

Right now, she had _everything_ she had ever wanted.

8-8-8-8-8

END

8-8-8-8-8

 _ **A/N 2:**_

 _I have always believed that there had already been some feelings between Vegeta and Bulma before he left for space to become Super Saiyan. One thing to consider is the alternate timeline of Mirai Trunks; there was no warning of the androids then, but for some reason, Vegeta had stayed long enough to conceive Trunks and fight against the androids. Why else would he, if not for Queen B?_

 _On tornados: I'm rather fond of reading about dream interpretations, and I remember that dreaming about tornados means that you are going through a fair amount of stress. I did a quick web search and was delighted to realize that it actually means more than that, since the dreamer could be in a difficult relationship, or is experiencing massive changes. Some even mentioned that it could mean that the dreamer is pregnant in waking life._

 _Feedback will be greatly appreciated!_


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